Nothing Stays Buried (Detectives Kane and Alton #30)

Prologue

“When I kill you”—his gaze traveled over her, and he smiled as he opened the door to leave—“you’ll thank me.”

I can’t breathe. Nausea gripped Marie Reyes in waves.

Alone at last, the endless night had stretched on forever.

Time had stopped and darkness pressed in against her from all sides.

How long had it been since he’d left? She forced her dry tongue between swollen lips to push at the gaffer tape wrapped around her face.

Just one small breath. The rough rope binding her hands and ankles cut deep into her flesh.

Swollen blue fingers had replaced her red rough hands.

Beneath her naked flesh, the cold damp concrete floor offered no comfort, although the musty odor of sacks of potatoes reminded her of her father’s farm in Mexico.

Pain throbbed behind her eyes, and her body ached all over.

She turned her head as a cloud moved away from the moon and a beam of light pierced through a crack in the cabin.

She stared at the almost angelic dust motes dancing in the light as if offering her hope.

She swallowed, trying to find a tiny modicum of saliva to wet her parched throat.

A shudder went through her. Would he come back again tonight?

What would happen in daylight? How long could he possibly keep her tied up here without food, water, or heat?

In and out of consciousness, she didn’t know how long she’d been lying naked on the floor or what would happen next.

She should be on her way to her next job.

Although she’d enjoyed working in the hay barn at Lawson’s Ridge cattle ranch, one of the men working alongside her had made her feel uncomfortable and leaving was her only option.

Not wanting to complain, because complaints followed seasonal hands from one job to another, she couldn’t afford to be turned away, not with her father’s farm being in so much financial trouble and her siblings going hungry.

She’d packed in a hurry after discovering the last bus to Blackwater left at ten that night.

She’d asked if anyone was heading into town, and one of the men had offered to give her a ride to the bus station.

He said nothing until they got there. He’d driven behind the line of parked buses and stuck a gun in her face.

Terrified, she obeyed his command to lie down and cover herself with a blanket.

He’d driven to a rural area with the heavy weight of the gun pressing against her back.

Heart racing, Marie hadn’t dared to call out for help or scream. When he dragged her out of the truck and pressed the muzzle of the gun inside her mouth, her legs trembled. The sound of his voice echoed through her mind. She would never forget that voice—not ever.

“You be nice, hear?” The man had slowly removed the pistol from her mouth, leaving the taste of gunpowder on her tongue. “I can kill you fast or slow, but make one sound and I’ll blow your brains out.” He’d cupped her cheek. “This is the end of the road, darlin’. You belong to me now.”

Tears stung the backs of her eyes and she forced herself not to cry.

Crying made her nose run, and if it blocked, she wouldn’t be able to breathe.

The sound of heavy machinery came from a long distance away and had gotten closer by the second.

Heart thundering in her chest, Marie turned her attention toward the door.

Had the man returned again, or was someone here to rescue her?

The door opened slowly and the cabin flooded with light.

The man stood looking at her and a wide smile curled his cruel lips. Marie shook in terror.

“You didn’t die.” He nudged her with the tip of his cowboy boot. “Not many get through to round three. They must make them tough in Mexico.”

Too weak to move, Marie watched him as he organized the video camera.

Everything that had happened to her, the sick freak had captured.

He went back and forth a couple of times to gather equipment.

Finally, like before, he pulled on a balaclava, a pair of coveralls, and gloves.

Wriggling and then stiffening her body to make it difficult for him to lift her, pain shot through her, stealing her breath from a vicious punch to the stomach.

Doubling up in agony, she offered no resistance when he dropped her back into the upright metal chair.

This disgusting animal got his pleasure from torturing women, and her muffled screams made it worse.

She’d give him no more pleasure and kept silent, staring at him with defiance.

The faces of her family drifted into her mind.

She’d never see them again. She gritted her teeth when the next blow came, and as he continued in his madness, she welcomed the waves of unconsciousness.

I’ll never wake up from this nightmare. I’m sorry, Mama.